


What Makes A Man

by sarCATstic1



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boyfriends, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Couch Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarCATstic1/pseuds/sarCATstic1
Summary: After Hajime's mom died, his dad started acting funny. It started with just drinking, then he started shouting at Hajime, and finally he started beating him. It took everything Oikawa had to not go to the police, but Hajime begged him not to. How could he let Oikawa turn in the only parent he had left?





	What Makes A Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic with child abuse, so here goes nothing. Thanks for reading, and please enjoy!

     Hajime remembered when his dad was nice, like other dads. He remembered when he could run up to his dad and the man would lift him, throw him in the air, and catch him so that he could hold him tightly against his chest. He remembered when his dad's smile didn't make him flinch and apologize (for what, he never really knew). And he remembered when he could walk into his house without feeling like he wasn't wanted there.

     He could distinctly remember the exact moment when things started to change. When he was ten years old, his mother died in a car accident. It had been raining, and the car had hydroplaned. His dad had been driving and had only gotten a concussion, some cuts and bruises, and a broken wrist. But his mom had suffered severe internal bleeding and had died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

     Hajime never blamed his dad for what happened. He lost one parent, he wasn't about to lose another through anger and resentment. But his dad shouldered the blame for the death of his wife, and the only way he could deal with that pain and guilt was to drown it in alcohol.

     Hajime's mom never allowed alcohol in their house. Not beer, not wine, nothing. But when Hajime's dad came home from the hospital, within a week the bottom shelf of their fridge was filled with beer.

     Hajime remembered that week. He'd never cried so much in his life.

     Things weren't bad, at first. Hajime and his dad stayed in their own unspoken, but understood, halves of the house; Hajime in the upstairs, and his dad in the downstairs. Family dinners didn't exist anymore. If you wanted to eat, you went and got food for yourself. Hajime started eating a lot of dinners at Oikawa's house.

     Oikawa's parents, who where already a part of Hajime's life obviously, suddenly because very involved with Hajime's every day life. Oikawa's mom even gave Hajime her cell phone number, so they could text back and forth regarding dinner, homework, and other things. Hajime really liked Oikawa's mom.

     And Oikawa's dad did things that Hajime's dad wouldn't do anymore. Like, when Hajime came over to hang out, he would play catch with them. And when Hajime's bike chain broke, Oikawa's dad fixed it for him, having him sit in the garage with him so he could teach Hajime how to do it himself. Hajime really liked Oikawa's dad, too.

~

     About a month later, Hajime's dad started yelling at him for things he never used to get angry about before. If Hajime left his backpack by the front door when he came home from school, his dad yelled at him. If he wore his shoes inside the house, his dad yelled at him. If he ate the last of something, his dad yelled at him. The list went on and on. That was also how Hajime learned a lot of curse words.

     He remembered the first time he cried after his dad yelled at him. He didn't remember what he had yelled exactly (partly because hadn't been able to understand most of what he said), but he knew that it made his knees shake and his heart lodge itself in his throat. He sprinted on weak legs out of his house and across the street to Oikawa's where he sank down on the porch with his back against a wall and his knees pulled up to his chest.

     It was late in the afternoon, and the Oikawas weren't home. Hajime had watched them from his bedroom window climb into their family car and drive off, probably to go get dinner. Hajime had wanted to run out of his house and jump in front of their car, make them take him with them. But even at ten years old, Hajime knew that you just didn't do things like that.

     So, he sat on their porch curled in on himself until the glare of headlights cut across his face in the dark. For a split second, a sudden gut-wrenching fear took a hold of him, whispering in his ear that they would be furious that he was there, and he had half a mind to take off running back to his own house. But then the thought of running into his dad came to him, and his body refused to move.

     Oikawa was the first to see him, the brown haired boy acutely aware of his friend, especially after recent events. He ran up the steps of the porch and knelt in front of Hajime, watching him with eyes wise beyond their years. He didn't push Hajime to speak, just waited there with him while his parents got out of the car.

     The sound of car doors closing made Hajime flinch, and he blinked at Oikawa for a minute before he could muster up a noise. "I walked in front of the TV while Dad was watching," he whispered, clenching his fingers around handfuls of his jeans.

     Oikawa's parents shared a look between them before Oikawa's mom bent down and picked Hajime up, holding him to her chest like he was five, not ten. That was the first time Hajime realized just how strong Oikawa's mom was, not that he was surprised. Oikawa's mom was tall and had lean muscles, much like Oikawa's dad. Hajime's mom had been short but stocky.

     Hajime felt Oikawa's mom rest a hand on the back of his head to guide his face into her neck and shoulder, and he let out a shaky breath when she pressed a soft kiss to his temple. A lump formed in his throat as tears welled up in his eyes, and he couldn't help but think of how soothing Oikawa's mom's cool fingers felt against the back of his flushed neck.

     They let Hajime stay the night that night.

~

     Two years later, Hajime's dad hit him for the first time. It was a day that was burned into his mind. Hajime had accidently knocked over a glass in their kitchen and broken it. Hajime expected the yelling, but what he didn't expect was the hand that came down and bloodied his nose.

     He cried then, too, but more out of fear than pain. He'd had bloody noses before, but never from his dad. There was a moment while Hajime was cowering on the kitchen floor, laying in the glass of his mom's broken cup crying and apologizing again and again, that his dad seemed almost guilty. But it didn't last long.

     Hajime's dad left him there on the floor, broken glass digging into his cheek and arm and blood running down his chin, and yelled at him from the living room to clean up his mess. He did so quickly with shaky fingers, and once all the glass was thrown away, he bolted out of the house.

     He ran to Oikawa's again, and this time he knew for a fact that only Oikawa himself was home. Neither of his parents' cars were in their driveway. So, when he knocked on the front door, he didn't worry about having to tell Oikawa's mom about why he was standing on their porch, crying and bleeding.

     He did have to explain to Oikawa though, and it made his friend's hands shake while he helped clean the glass out of Hajime's cuts. They were both silent after that, the only sounds were Hajime hissing softly as Oikawa cleaned and disinfected his cuts.

     "We have to tell someone, Iwa-chan," Oikawa whispered in the quiet, placing a bandaid on Hajime's cheek.

     Hajime reared back and shook his head, his eyes wide and fear full. "No," he barked, his voice harsh. "No."

     Oikawa scowled at him and set the can of disinfectant spray down harder than necessary, which made Hajime flinch slightly. "We can't just  _not_ tell someone! Iwa-chan, he hit you. He made you bleed!"

     Hajime looked at the ground and rubbed at his sore arm. "It was my fault. I should have been more careful," he said, wincing when his nose throbbed.

     "Iwa-chan," Oikawa murmured, but still he wouldn't look up. "Hajime." He finally glanced at the sound if his first name. "Let me help. I'm your friend."

     Hajime took a deep breath and shook his head, cutting Oikawa off before he could speak. "Then, as my friend, please. Don't."

     He and Oikawa stared at each other for a while before Oikawa nodded once and went back to wiping the blood off Hajime's chin. When Oikawa's mom came home, she demanded to know what had happened. After a beat of silence, Hajime hold her he got in a fight at school and had been too scared to go home and tell his dad. After A minute, she sighed and told him to wait with Oikawa in the living room while she got him an icepack for his nose.

     That was when Hajime started to learn how to lie.

~

     From then on, it became a regular thing for Hajime to slip into Oikawa's house with a bloody lip or a black eye. By the time they were seventeen, it was a near-weekly occurance. In fact, Hajime had become quite the expert at sneaking around. If he were prone to more nefarious hobbies, he'd probably have a good future ahead of him.

     Volleyball made things easier. The less time Hajime spent at home, the less time his dad had for a chance to hit or yell at him. Being around his friends helped, too. They made life a little easier. When he came to practice with a bruise on his jaw, a busted lip, or a black eye, they gave him some ice and told him a joke while he nursed his wound. They made him feel a little better, a little lighter.

     After years of being with Iwaizumi, Oikawa had long since learned how to deal with the consequences of Hajime's time with his dad. Though, Oikawa wasn't happy with the fact that Iwaizumi was the reason why he'd gotten so good at bandaging cuts and knowing how to care for dark purple bruises. As they got older, it got harder and harder for Hajime to keep Oikawa from saying anything.

     "He gave you a black eye because you were doing your homework in the kitchen, Hajime! I'm not going to just let you keep being abused like this!" Hajime sighed and rolled his eyes at Oikawa's yelling, holding the ice pack he'd been given to his swollen eye.

     "It was my fault. I should have heard him come in and moved. I know how he is when he gets home from the bar," he mumbled around his busted lip. Oikawa snorted at him.

     "You mean when he brings the bar home with him?" Oikawa sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

     "Alright, okay? My dad's a drunken asshole who beats me for no reason. I get it," Hajime snapped, glaring at Oikawa around the ice pack pressed to his face.

     Oikawa's expression crumbled at his words, and Hajime immediately felt sorry for snapping at him. Oikawa spoke before Hajime could apologize, though. "I don't like watching you get hurt, and I really don't like not being able to do anything about it."

     Hajime's heart lept into his throat when Oikawa rested a hand gently against the not bruised side of his face, and he tried to keep his cheeks from coloring. He'd been having these weird feelings about Oikawa for a few months, now. Whenever he was around him, he felt happier (more so than he usually was around the other boy), and he had started noticing more things about his friend.

     For example, when Oikawa leaned forward like he was doing now so he could look at Hajime's face, the neck of his v-neck sagged low enough for Hajime to see down it. And that made him uncomfortable for all the right reasons. Even now, when his face was throbbing and Oikawa was worried about him, Hajime could help but stare at the other's plump lips, wondering what they would feel like against his own.

     Now, Hajime wasn't stupid. He knew what his feelings were. He knew that he  _like_ liked his best friend. But what he also knew was that if his dad ever found out about his feelings, he'd never be able to see Oikawa again. Not to mention he'd get the ever loving shit beaten out of him. He would deal with that if it meant being with Oikawa, but another worry that kept him from voicing his feelings was this: what if Oikawa didn't like him back? What if Oikawa thought he was disgusting and didn't want anything to do with him anymore? Hajime couldn't live with that.

     So, instead of leaning forward and kissing the daylights out of Oikawa like he wanted to, he huffed a sigh and pushed the other's face away from his own. "Get over it, Trashykawa. I'll be fine."

     The look Oikawa gave him told Hajime that he didn't believe him. And Hajime didn't blame him. He didn't believe himself, either.

~

     Hajime stared wide-eyed at the broken picture frame at his feet, the picture of his mother that it had held stared back at him through the shards of glass. His world felt like it had narrowed down to one point, and that point was his mother's broken picture.

     His dad was going to kill him. And not in the figurative term, like he was going to get very angry and ground him for a month, no. Hajime's dad was literally going to kill him.

     He had to clean it up. He-he had to fix it before his dad got home. Try to limit the backlash he was going to receive. He dropped to his knees immediately and started collecting the large pieces of glass, not caring if they cut his hands. He rushed to throw them away in the kitchen and ran back to pick up the pieces of the frame, but he paused when he saw his mother's picture again.

     He bit his lip and carefully tugged the picture out from under the mess he'd made, making sure to not get any blood on it. "Sorry, Mom," he whispered, blinking so that his sudden well of tears wouldn't spill over. "It was an accident."

     He jumped when he heard the front door swing open and hit one of the walls in the entryway. He froze and felt the blood drain from his face at the sound of his dad grumbling as he came in, and his mom's picture slipped out of his shaking hands.

     "Shit," he hissed and scrambled to his feet. There was no point in trying to pick his mess up now. He was better off just trying to get as far away from his dad as possible. He'd waited too long, though. Their front door was barely five feet away from their living room, where Hajime and the broken picture frame were.

     Before he could even take two steps, his dad walked into the living room, and everything went silent. Hajime stared at his dad with wide eyes, body stiff and ready to flee. He watched his dad's eyes slowly rake over the broken frame, smaller glass pieces, and Hajime's mother's picture, taking it all in. The whole time, Hajime didn't dare move, in case any movement would turn his dad's attention on him.

     That didn't seem to matter, though. Because, in the next second, Hajime's dad turned to look at him, and, before Hajime could stumble back, he rushed forward and grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip.

     "It was an accident!" Hajime cried immediately, throwing an arm in front of his face for protection. "I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

     His dad didn't reply. At least, not with words. The first fist came down so fast that Hajime didn't even know it had hit him until his mouth was filling with blood. He staggered back but didn't go very far. His dad used the grip he had on Hajime's arm to reel him back in for another blow, one that connected with one of Hajime's cheekbones this time.

     The second hit woke Hajime from his daze, and he fought against his dad's hold on his arm. Thankfully, despite how angry his dad was, his night out at the bar had made him clumsy, and Hajime was able to yank himself free.

     He didn't get very far though before his dad grabbed the back of his shirt and flung him into a wall. The back of Hajime's head cracked against hard wall, and he fell to his hands and knees with a choked off cry of pain.

     A solid kick connected with his side and knocked him onto his side. "You are so worthless," Hajime's dad spat above him, his words slurring slightly. "Can't even treat your dead mother with respect."

     "Don't talk about Mom like that," Hajime ground out through clenched teeth, struggling to push himself up. That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Because after those words left his mouth, his dad granted him another kick, this time right in the nose.

     Then, the world went dark.

...

     Hajime woke up he wasn't sure how much later with an aching body and a pounding headache. When he finally managed to crack his eyes open, he saw, through his swimming vision, that his dad was no where to be seen. Well, at least he had that on his side. But he didn't think he could stand, not with the way his body was hurting and his vision was blurring.

     Without a second thought, he dug into his back pocket (with some difficulty) and pulled his phone out. It took his a few tries, but eventually he managed to type in the right password for his lock screen and hit the 'call' button next to Oikawa's name. He couldn't think of anyone else to call when he was like this.

     He put his phone on speaker and laid it next to his head, closing his eyes when the world spun in front of him so he didn't get sick. He probably had a concussion. He probably had, like, two concussions.

     After a few rings, Hajime heard the line connect, and a familiar voice floated through the air around him. "Iwa-chan! To what do I owe this gift of a phone call?"

     Hajime tried to open his mouth and say something, but nothing would come out. His voice was stuck somewhere in his chest where it hurt. Instead, he let out a broken groan.

     The line was quiet for a few seconds before Oikawa spoke again, this time much quieter. "Iwa-chan? What's wrong?"

     This time Hajime managed to force something out. "...kawa..." he panted, spitting out some of the blood that had pooled in his mouth. "Tooru."

     He started fading after that, his consciousness coming and going as it pleased. He heard a panicked call of 'Hajime?', but then he blacked out for he didn't know how long.

     Then, he woke up again to the sound of his front door flying open and bashing into a wall in the entryway. A brief worry of the state of the wall fluttered through his mind but was gone in the next second when he heard footsteps running towards him.

     A pair of shoes suddenly appeared on his blurry line of sight, and he tried to flinch away from them but his body wouldn't listen to him. Then, there were knees in front of his face as the person next to him knelt down. Hajime managed to drag his eyes upward until they landed on a familiar face, a safe face.

     "Tooru," he breathed, closing his eyes when he felt soft finger tips brush over his face.

     "Hajime," came Oikawa's tearful reply, his voice rough and watery. "Oh, God. What did he  _do_  to you?"

     Hajime grunted in reply and tried to push himself up again, only to have his arms buckle under his weight. He felt arms wrap around him, giving him the support that he needed to stand, and he groaned again when a wave of nausea washed over him.

     Cool fingers pressed against his flushed cheeks in response, and he sighed in relief, the nausea fading quickly. Hajime leaned into Oikawa's side, enjoying the warmth and sturdiness he felt there. He didn't trust anyone else like he trusted Oikawa.

     He felt Oikawa wrap one of his arms over his taller shoulders, helping him stand, and then they started walking. Hajime wasn't sure where they were going, but anywhere was better than here. He seemed to float through time for a while, spotty flashes of clarity littering the walk to wherever they were going it.

     There was a point in time where Hajime opened his eyes and saw asphalt under their feet. He assumed they were outside and muttered something about making sure the front door was closed because he didn't want to deal with his dad if he came home to find the it unlocked. Oikawa snorted but didn't reply. And Hajime didn't bother asking for one. He was just so tired.

...

     Hajime woke up to something soft brushing his nose. He groaned and blinked his eyes open, a feat that took incredible strength. A ball of brown, white, and orange fluff flooded his vision, and he blinked again to help clear focus his eyes. The next time he managed to open his eyes, he saw a cat, Oikawa's cat, perched above him, staring down at him with her paw held out, like she was about to bat at his nose again. Hajime grunted when she went through with her plan.

     "Ripley, leave him alone." Hajime jumped at the sound of Oikawa's voice coming from his right. The calico cat meowed at her owner and jumped off the couch Hajime was sitting on. He slide his eyes over to look at his friend, only to see Oikawa coming into his family's living room with a bowl of water, their med kit, and a wash cloth.

     "What happened?" Hajime asked as Oikawa as he settled in front of him, his voice rough. Oikawa didn't reply at first, dipping the wash cloth in the bowl of water and wringing it out. "Tooru?"

     Oikawa froze at the sound of his first name and let out a long, shaky sigh, before he finally met Hajime's eyes. "Your father beat you. Again. This time worse than I've ever seen. You called me, I came over and saw you unconscious on your living room floor, and I brought you over to my house." Oikawa squeezed the wash cloth a little too hard, scowling down at his hands. "And now I'm going to clean you up, and then you're going to eat something, and then you're going to stay here until my parents come home from their dinner date, and we are going to talk about this."

     Hajime tried to sit up, but his ribs protested quite angrily at him. He hissed and relaxed back against the couch again. Oikawa watched him with wide, concerned eyes, but Hajime waved him off.

     "I'm okay," he murmured, but that seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Oikawa threw the wash cloth in his hands to the ground and jumped to his feet, face growing red in anger.

     "No, Hajime! You're not okay!" Oikawa shouted, hurt and anger and worry spilling out of his mouth. "You're laying on my couch, not for the first time, mind you, bleeding with a black eye, a busted lips, a concussion, and probably from cracked ribs! You are not okay!" Tears were now streaming down Oikawa's cheeks, dripping off his chin as he sniffled and sobbed.

     Hajime blinked in surprise at Oikawa's outburst, his concussed mind struggling to keep up with what he had said. He eventually just sighed and settled with correcting what he'd said.

     "I'll be okay." Oikawa collapsed on the couch next to him, taking one of his hands in his own and resting his head gently on one of his shoulders. Hajime closed his eyes and hummed contentedly, turning to press his face in Oikawa's hair, careful of his throbbing nose. "Are you actually going to help me clean up, or were you just talking shit earlier?"

     Oikawa sniffled and pulled away from Hajime's shoulder, glaring harmlessly at him through his drying tears. He huffed and reached down next to the bowl of water in front of the couch to get the wash cloth he'd abandoned. He leaned over to dip the rag in the bowl of water, and Hajime admired the way his spine bent through the thin cotton shirt Oikawa was wearing. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing his fingers over the raised bumps of Oikawa's vertebrae, blaming his momentary lack of a filter for his thoughts and actions on his concussion.

     Oikawa paused at his touch but didn't say anything, instead just wringing the cloth out again. Hajime let his arm wrap around Oikawa's waist as the other sat back up, bringing the wash cloth and bowl of water with him.

     "Hold still," Oikawa whispered to him and started gently wiping at Hajime's face. Hajime sighed and the light touches and closed his eyes. The warm water felt good, and it felt even better when it cooled on his skin. He hissed softly when Oikawa brushed over a tender spot on his forehead.

     "Sorry," Oikawa murmured, so close that Hajime could feel his breath on his skin. "You have a cut here. Don't want it to get infected." Hajime let his eyes flutter open to see Oikawa's face inches from his own.

     His breath caught in his throat at their close proximity, but he couldn't find it in himself to pull away. Oikawa pulled the wet rag away but didn't move from where he was, leaning over Hajime with one of his hands braced against the back of the couch behind him. Hajime let his gaze fall to the other's lips, licking his own unconsciously.

     "Hajime, I..." Oikawa started but trailed off, not finishing his thought as his own eyes trailed down to Hajime's lips too. They both stared at each other, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move.

     Hajime was the one to muster enough courage to close the gap between them, closing his eyes so that he could focus on feeling every small detail. The kiss was soft and fleeting, barely a brush of their lips, but Oikawa still gasped all the same. The taller boy rushed forward when Hajime began to pull away, pressing their mouths together more insistently, and Hajime jumped when he felt a hand cup his cheek carefully.

     "What-" Oikawa gasped when he pulled away, their faces still only inches apart. "What was that?" Hajime finally opened his eyes and found himself staring into Oikawa's wide, shining eyes. The other boy looked like he had just been given something precious.

     "I...I like you," Hajime whispered, glancing away from Oikawa's gaze. "Have for a while, now." Oikawa leaned forward and pressed another kiss to Hajime's lips and quickly pulled away.

     "Why didn't you say something sooner?" Oikawa murmured, leaning forward so they could rest their foreheads together.

     Hajime bit his lip and blinked rapidly to try and keep from crying. "Because...because I didn't want you to hate me," he said, his voice quiet and rough. "I couldn't take it if you didn't want anything to do with me."

     Oikawa huffed out a breath. "Hajime, that could never happen." Hajime took in a shaky breath and reached up, tugging on the front of Oikawa's shirt until the taller boy sat on the couch next to him. He squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed his face into the crook of Oikawa's neck.

     "I don't know what to do," he whimpered, clutching at one of Oikawa's hands. "He's my dad."

     "Dads aren't supposed to hit their kids, Hajime." He burrowed even further into Oikawa's skin at his words. "But don't worry about it. You've got me, and I won't let him touch you again."

     And, for the first time since his mom died, Hajime felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the ending kinda sucks, but I wanted to post this before it got deleted. I might add another chapter with some smut in it. But that all depends on how much feedback I get on this.
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Please Leave a kudos or comment if you feel like it. They give me life. Bye bye!


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